From A Certain Point of View
by mtfrosty
Summary: Various movie scenes fleshed out as character studies from one person's point of view. Scene 4: Bruce meets Shuri and isn't impressed, but then it no longer matters whether he's impressed or not (update schedule up in the air)
1. Tony Stark (Iron Man 2)

**Disclaimer:** The perspective/thoughts are the only part that I'll lay some sort of claim to, and even that is wishy-washy (I could say the MCU writers/directors/actors meant to imply some of it). Dialogue and actions are for sure not mine. As with youtube character tributes, all of these one-shots are meant as character study pieces.

Hope you enjoy my takes on various movie scenes!

* * *

He points a red-gloved hand at her. "What's your name, lady?"

"Rushman. Natalie Rushman." She says, voice level. Long red hair frames a pretty face and a confident gaze. Her clothes are modest-ish and match whatever job she's filling (a portfolio paperwork job that involves signing things and probably him being handed things which would normally make him instantly dislike her), but they do absolutely nothing to hide the fact that she is trying out the subtle sexy look in a pathetic attempt to distract him (it works for about four seconds), or make his brain glitch (impossible), or get a rise out of him (he has Pepper, so _no_ ).

But he plays along, because this Rushman lady hints at something that doesn't fit with his surroundings. The confident, sexy, redheaded, pen-wielding legal gal is _out of place._ Well, the legal part of her is totally _in place_ , because signing over a company involves those sorts of people. That part fits.

He caught her looking, though, and that doesn't fit. Hers hadn't been a look hinting at attraction (he is fully capable of recognizing that, thank you), but at amusement instead. Yes, he is a little insulted that she finds some of his best boxing moves _funny_ , but he's mostly intrigued.

So he invites her in.

"Front and center. Come into the church." He looks away, casually gesturing to the ring, knowing that she'll take the bait (though he's confident that she would have no qualms about refusing him either).

"No, you're seriously not going to –" Pepper tries to stop it (of course she does).

"If it pleases the court," he quips. "Which it does."

Natalie Rushman says 'it's fine' and strolls over, still confident and still sexy, and holds his gaze as he lets her in. He stares back, face perfectly void of emotion. The blackish-green swill in his water bottle tastes atrocious, but he guzzles some of it while he looks her over (looks her _face_ over).

Minimal makeup, coldish warm blue eyes, and absolutely no emotion. There is literally nothing showing at all (but this tells him _everything_ he needs to know). He pulls the water bottle from his mouth with a pop and a sigh as if he hasn't a care in the world (which he doesn't and yet very much does) and pretends to be "distracted".

"What?"

It seems to work. Sort of. She smiles, smirks, does _something_ at him.

So he smiles, smirks, does the distracted something back, and then points to Happy. "Can you, uh, give her a lesson?" he asks, deliberately stuttering. When he strolls over and sits down (fidgeting a bit, because he can't ever make himself just sit still), Pepper starts lecturing him on the dangers of sexual harassment and other such stuff that he's heard a _million_ times. Normally, he would tell her that her warnings are completely unnecessary (they are, because he has _Pepper_ , so _no_ , and why can't she see that?), but he's slightly relieved that he can still do the whole playboy thing and play it up to a tee.

He continues it now, _staring_ at her. Watching her. The way she's only humoring Happy, standing there like she's done this all a _million_ times before, only not in safe environments like this with lots of lights and lots of matting. Maybe in dark, dingy, unsanitary places like The Cave where certain individuals speak dozens of languages just so they can remain alive and useful and –

But he'd rather not think about _that_ man. Not now. Not when he has to remain a playboy billionaire with a company to hand over to the beautiful woman sitting next to him. It simply wouldn't do to get all _upset_.

So he googles her (a real and intentional distraction). But that doesn't help, because then he finds that she actually _does_ speak, like, a _gazillion_ languages and has toured the world as a model (yeah _sure_ , but he appreciates the pretty pictures…). Professional, subtle sexy, multi-lingual, well-travelled model lady with a mysterious aura and an apparent knack for triggering memories he'd rather forget. With the exception of the last one, whoever sent her here had done their best to make her appealing to him.

He turns to Pepper (another distraction that will _work_ ). "Who speaks Latin anymore?"

Cue distracting conversation.

He's impressed, despite himself, with this Rushman lady, especially when she puts Happy on the mat in a single move that leaves Pepper overly concerned with Happy's well-being and him mildly surprised that she can move like that in business attire (Happy getting demolished is _not_ surprising; he had her pegged for that).

He wonders if she speaks Urdu.

She climbs out of the ring, all predatory grace and fiery red hair (she's dangerous, but he isn't sure why or how or to whom). "I need your impression," she says.

He doesn't need to act confused. "You have a quiet reserve… an old soul…" (Um… what?)

The smile smirk thing is back with an irritating condescension about it. "I need your fingerprint."

Oh. Well. Fingerprints are easy enough. Back to the legal stuff it seems. The three of them finish up the paperwork (thankfully no one tries to hand him anything), and he watches her leave the same way that she arrived. "I want one."

Pepper's 'no' is quite emphatic.

He makes sure Rushman is hired anyway, just so she doesn't stray too far (call him paranoid).

***oo***

Eyepatch is in the middle of chewing him out when Rushman strolls in in a black, skin-tight suit that is practical and professional and not-so-subtle sexy, but _not_ for legal mumbo jumbo. At least she isn't holding anything and thus, he is in no danger of being handed stuff.

What on earth do these people want with him?

"Huh," is all he says initially. Until he realizes all of his questions regarding her loyalties have been answered. So… "You're fired."

"That's not up to you."

Flippant. Always so flippant, and manipulative, and secretive, and apparently very much with SHIELD. He supposes that if he'd really wanted to he could have figured that out, but his mind had been preoccupied with his imminent death, so pretty much everything else had taken a backseat. He doesn't appreciate being manipulated. Or taken advantage of.

"I'm a SHIELD shadow. Once we knew you were ill, I was tasked to you by Director Fury."

As if that makes it all okay? Really, sweetheart? He stares her down, chin in hand, eyebrows ticking up very briefly. "I suggest you apologize." Suggest, demand… it's all semantics and he _knows_ she knows this. He sees it in her unwavering, unyielding, _unapologetic_ stare. Natalie Rushman only ever read a file on him, some cooked-up backstory based on stuff that definitely happened and that definitely changed things (but she doesn't know how or why since she _never asked_ ).

 _Natasha Romanoff_ stares at him like she thinks she knows him. Like she knows him and refuses to apologize and it _grates_ on him like nothing else. Pepper knows him. Rhodey knows him. Happy knows bits and pieces of him. Jarvis _definitely_ knows everything about him. Four people. That's it.

Because he _trusts_ them.

Maybe he can trust Eyepatch. He isn't sure yet.

But not this pretty lady that smile smirks at him like she can see right through him. Nope. She knows nothing and he'll do his best to keep it that way. He doesn't try to hide his disdain for her or what she's done. It's obvious that she notices it. Nothing about her expression changes really, but he _knows_ how to read people. He had an overseas crash course on it that lasted for a few months before everything went to hell in a handbasket.

Yinsen died. Nobody knows this.

Eyepatch keeps the conversation rolling (probably to keep him from blowing her from her seat with a repulsor ray… does she _see_ how angry he is?).

"You've been very busy. You made your girl your CEO, you're giving away all your stuff. You let your friend fly away with your suit. Now, if I know better…"

He finally tears his gaze from the spy. "You don't know better. I didn't give it to him. He took it." A pathetic lie, but he _really_ doesn't want to do this right now. Not ever, honestly. He doesn't have the time. No more birthdays are coming up. Ever. Which makes him all sorts of mad and sad and _messed up_ because Yinsen told him not to waste it and now he doesn't have much of it left…

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. He _took_ it? You're Iron Man and he just _took_ it? The little brother walked in there, kicked your butt and took your suit? Is that possible?"

No. No it's not, but did he mention it was a pathetic lie? And yes, he _let_ Rhodey take it since it doesn't matter anymore and – little _brother_? He stares at Eyepatch (Nick) with new eyes. Perhaps a fifth person knows just a _tiny_ bit (he kicks Nick's name up a few notches on his trust-o-meter).

"Well, according to Mr. Stark's database security guidelines, there are redundancies to prevent unauthorized usage."

So. She snooped more than he had initially thought. Or tried to, anyway. It's not like she's saying anything revolutionary. Of _course_ he put algorithms in place (the fact that she used the word 'redundancies' is just annoying) to prevent _unauthorized usage_. What a nice SHIELDy term. Jarvis knows who he trusts and doesn't trust and the latter fall under 'unauthorized usage'. Rhodey was _always_ going to be on his short list.

Always.

He wants to tell her that there are far more complicated _redundancies_ in place to prevent her and others like her from knowing what he doesn't want them to know (he's not sure that these people really understand what he can do with a computer, or any piece of tech, or a few misplaced weapons in a _cave_ ), but he doesn't. That would be a waste of time. So instead he stares at her again, at _both_ of them, and swallows the frustrated tirade that he almost always swallows. Over and over and over.

"What do you want from me?"

The conversation shifts, and in a few minutes it suddenly looks like he might be able to have a life again (he wonders how many brushes with death he'll have before one of them eventually sticks). So he does what he always does. He runs with it.

Romanoff and Nick are sorted into various bins in his head ("Fake, Fake, and FAKE" and "Almost-Real"). SHIELD gets put on his hit list. The Boy Band Initiative gets tossed onto his I'll-maybe-get-back-to-you-later pile. Everything about dad takes center stage.

He owes Pepper and Rhodey apologies (but he's terrible at those and so he'll have to practice before he preaches).

He opens a new world.

Not new necessarily. He's an inventor. He tinkers, he builds things, he perfects them, and he uses them. Some of them he gives away for mass production (or used to). Most of them he keeps and is _very_ careful with how they are used and _why_.

 _Why_ is important.

He has never tried to invent an element (or _discover_ one, rather). That _is_ new. But it just might be… possible. Anything is possible. It's worth a shot. He can do it for Pepper and Rhodey and Happy (a sort of apology in a way for being a huge, self-centered moron). It's not an apology for Jarvis, because he's already apologized to Jarvis multiple times. Jarvis is like Yinsen. Deserving of apologies, but never needing them. Only ever wanting him to be _better_. Different than he was. Is. More.

Or less? He isn't sure, but what the heck. He has _time_ now to figure it out.

So he runs with it. There isn't much that surprises him anymore. Not since he started paying attention to people instead of his stuff (though he still pays plenty of attention to his toys, weapons, inventions, things…). Romanoff hadn't ever surprised him and he wonders if she ever will. Nick did, a little bit.

He moves on.

Still upset, still angry, still confused, still hurt, and still very different than he was, thank you very much, because people _change_ (and maybe spy lady will surprise him and change; perhaps he's being hypocritical… huh), but… moving on. He's good at that.

At least that's what most people see (he wagers he'd give the SHIELDy shadow a run for her money when it comes to wearing masks).

* * *

 _"It's a hi-tech prosthesis. That's actually the most apt description I can make of it." Tony Stark_


	2. Thor Odinson (Age of Ultron)

He isn't worried when they all spontaneously agree to have a hammer-lifting contest. There are time-honored, ancient rules that none of them seem keen on considering and Mjolnir is no simple Midgardian weapon. There is legitimate _power_ within the dwarf-crafted hammer. His own brother swore by it after his bleeding lips had been freed from their bonds and he had cursed the dwarves to Hel in more than a dozen languages.

" _It judges the heart._ "

Words spoken through a tortured mouth and from a tortured being, but one who nonetheless had been telling the truth. It's odd, that he owes the existence of this weapon, a testament to his worthiness, to the lost fortunes of his brother so many years ago. Loki had lived with brazen recklessness back then. They both had, in a way.

Oh how things have changed.

He watches them all try to lift it, trying not to laugh at the utter futility of it all. Barton tries first, claiming some sort of trick. Mjolnir remains on the table. The Man of Iron tries next and fails twice before calling on the one called Rhodey. He wants to tell them that physics has nothing to do with it. Even _he_ knows that, and he doesn't even know what physics really is.

Mjolnir remains on the table.

Friend Banner gets up and makes a show of it, but they both know he won't lift it. The Hulk had already tried once and failed miserably. So Mjolnir remains stationary.

Then Steve gets to his feet. Thor stops smiling and watches with a _tiny_ bit of nervousness as the captain grips the handle. If any Midgardian were to be deemed worthy by Mjolnir, it would be this man. Steve pulls, the weapon _budges_ , but then it settles back into place. He smiles, relieved.

But he'd _seen_ it budge, even if no one else had. This captain is truly a man of honor, even if he is not yet worthy.

Then a sparking, dented, warped man of metal drags itself into the room and Mjolnir is swinging lightly in his grip once more. After the pieces settle and he crushes this _Ultron_ with one last, mighty blow, he considers the Man of Iron with a cool stare.

This man is Loki all over again. Creating things with reckless abandon through untried and unproven methods driven by an ambition that is unchecked. A friend, yes. But one that brings mayhem as much as order. This man's science seems all too similar to his brother's seidr, able to bring life to the things he creates. Make them autonomous. Give them a mind of their own.

Ultron is a part of Stark. A dark part that he knows Mjolnir will forever detest.

***oo***

 _Friend_ Stark is doing it again. Putting intelligence and life into formerly lifeless shells. This one is no metal man. It is almost human, but not quite. It makes him nervous and it seems that no one else is happy about it either. But he'd helped speed up the process. Whatever the two scientists had been doing had been far too slow in the face of the honorable captain's anger, so he'd… zapped it. Him. The being.

Because of the Mind Stone.

This new being holds it captive and depends on it in a way, but he thinks that perhaps if it is on their side and not Ultron's… it's the only choice he has. He still isn't happy about it, though. He and this new man have words with one another while everyone watches. Nothing is said that convinces him that the being's intentions are good or even remotely worthy.

Then Mjolnir is being lifted and _handed to him_. All he can do is stare, speechless.

They call him 'Vision'. The others see him as an individual, fully separate from anyone else, but Thor has seen this before. More than enough times with the creatures Loki made.

With Ultron.

It's the same in concept if not in practice, and when Vision holds up Mjolnir, he isn't speechless because Vision lifts it. He marvels at the fact that the _Man of Iron_ helped make the man who's holding it.

Vision is a part of Stark. A very _good_ part that Mjolnir finds _worthy._

He doesn't know what to think of this, but when he finally turns and stares at Stark, he smiles crookedly and awkwardly pats him on the shoulder as he walks by.

* * *

 _"He's adopted." Thor Odinson_


	3. Thanos (Infinity War)

Loki is, simply put, a nuisance of the highest order. Thanos _loathes_ him. He'd been useful, yes, but he'd never bothered to calculate just how pesky the Asgardian could be. Nor how… paradoxical? Oxymoronic? _Illogical_? In hindsight, he can appreciate the irony of his own hatred for the Asgardian (and _yes_ , despite Loki's claims to not be an Asgardian, the fool should know better than to think blood matters more than loyalty; Jotun by birth, Asgardian by _choice_ ). Loki is perhaps the very definition of _balance_.

And that irritates him like nothing else, because the picture Loki paints of balance _makes no sense_. Balance is order, stability, security, assurance. Loki is none of those things and yet he's the epitome of insanity mixed with grounded, realistic perception. Deception and bald-faced truth. Reckless abandonment and steely-eyed determination. Love and hatred. Loyalty and treachery. He's both an ally and an enemy at the same time. Logic both applies and doesn't apply to his motives. For all of his vaunted wisdom, Thanos cannot _place_ the infuriating man. Everything should have at least a _semblance_ of belonging somewhere.

Loki doesn't.

So when the fool begins to mutter some sort of vow about pledging his undying fidelity towards the titan, Thanos decides he's had enough. "Undying? You should choose your words more wisely."

(In hindsight, he's embarrassed by the accusation. The universe's self-proclaimed mischief-maker is _known_ for his emphasis on semantic choice.)

It is no falsified illusion that he crushes. He knows this, Loki knows this, Thor seems to know this. There will be _no more_ resurrections.

***oo***

Everything is silent now. Balanced. Perfect. Without stain or blemish, and he's reveling in it. There is a sort of peacefulness here, in a sea of grass-green hills and rich blue sky. In the midst of this revelry, two words come unbidden to his mind, seemingly out of nowhere and yet he knows they are from _somewhere_ , but the dead don't speak. Not without permission, anyway. Not to the owner of the Soul Stone.

Not unless he _wants_ them to.

But the trickster's never been one to play by the rules. He's never been one to act or speak on the whim of another, no matter how powerful, no matter how wise. Loki has never _made sense_.

 _Undying fidelity…_

A pledge broken only through death. _"You should choose your words more wisely,"_ he'd said.

He stares, mesmerized by this planet's beauty. This peace, this _balance_ , cannot be undone. Not by a dead man, but _of course_ it is now that his mind conjures up the answer that the fool would have given to his accusation had he chosen to acknowledge it:

 _I did._

An echo of a snarky, maniacal laugh ghosts over the hills and washes over his tiny abode with the warm touch of a summer breeze. The breeze leaves a cold tingle at the base of his neck and the four words that follow are more than mere conjuring.

"The joke's on _you_."

* * *

 _"I consider experience, experience." Loki Laufeyson (Odinson)_


	4. Bruce Banner (Infinity War)

Wakanda is impressive, to say the least. If Tony were here, Bruce thinks the man would have run off already to tinker with something or dissect some piece of machinery that isn't supposed to be messed with. But Tony isn't here (in fact, Bruce thinks he's not even on the planet…), so he stops that train of thought immediately.

If the need to deal with Vision weren't so pressing, he would probably try to find a scientist to pose his dozens of questions to. But Vision is literally _the_ matter at hand, so his curiosity can wait.

They are escorted to an empty space in the palace where Vision is laid on a flat table that has some interesting surface structure that Bruce supposes serves some function or other. He honestly doesn't care and is really only focused on answering the ( _very_ ) young girl's questions once she's finished scanning the android. Shuri? Is that her name? He thinks so.

He watches a holographic structure of Vision's brain hover above her bracelet and the image brings all relevant information to his mind. It's not as if he could forget what he and Tony had done to create Vision. Bruce hadn't been fully on board from the start and will forever be thankful that the situation worked out as it did.

"The structure is polymorphic."

Shuri sounds slightly confused by that and her tone breaks Bruce from his momentary lapse in attention. It takes him only a fraction of a second to change his response from a very undignified _um yeah, duh_ , to something more professional. The teenager (maybe early twenties at the _oldest_ ) hadn't been there. He wonders (oh so briefly) if it would help to explain why they did what they did, but then he remembers the whole _time constraint_ thing and decides not to. "Right," he begins, "we – we had to attach each neuron non – non-sequentially."

He's annoyed by his stutter, but it's better than _um yeah, duh._ Tony would have gone with the undignified reply and somehow come across as charmingly dignified in the process, complete with bristly sarcasm and a 'can you please make relevant observations' expression. Bruce misses him.

Until he sees Shuri's expression. Then he decides it's better for _everyone present_ that Tony Stark is not in the building, let alone on the same planet as this spitfire of a girl. This conversation would be going very differently if that were the case. The young scientist is staring at him like he doesn't know how to work a smart phone and it takes every last bit of Bruce's very limited store of patience to not roll his eyes and walk away (this is neither the time nor the place for such a reaction). The Other Guy seems content to hibernate anyway, so it's not as if he'll be a danger to anyone if he ends up losing his temper.

"Why didn't you just reprogram the synapses to work collectively?"

Bruce is suddenly really, _really_ glad he doesn't have children. He isn't sure he would be able to deal with the combination of confidence and ignorance that is oh so present in this girl's entire demeanor. At least Tony's ridiculous overabundance of confidence is backed up (usually) with enough knowledge and experience to warrant it. Shuri hasn't even the slightest _clue_ what went into creating the being that lies in front of her, and that grates on every last one of his nerves.

As if programming them collectively had even been an option when Vision's body had been half-programmed already. Rather than spend time tearing apart what had already been done, they'd been able to work with what they'd been given (or what they'd stolen, rather). But then again, Shuri hadn't been there. Bruce has to keep reminding himself of that fact. It's giving him a valid reason to remain patient. So he tries not to mirror her expression (he has the feeling this makes him look confused) and comes up with a courteous response. "Because we… didn't think of it?"

Because it hadn't been an option, so why think of it? The only thing saving her from him thinking of her as just another stereotypical smart teenager is that her vocabulary and obvious interest imply that she knows what she's doing.

Then she smiles, and _oh._ _Oh boy._ He makes a mental note to sit down and have a little _chat_ with her once this whole thing blows over. Her smile is that toxic blend of confidence and ignorance again and it's _oozing_ with condescension. He despises it.

"I'm sure you did your best."

 _Huh. Well yeah, we did. And our best is lying in front of you. A fully functioning, living, breathing, morally good, fairly independent android that runs off of one of the most powerful energy sources in existence. Not to mention he can lift Thor's hammer._

But he doesn't say any of that, because frankly? That sort of attitude doesn't warrant a response, professional or otherwise. He's obviously answered all of the questions _she_ deems him intelligent enough to answer, so he meanders off to talk strategy with the rest of them.

Bruce has the uncomfortable feeling that Tony used to be like that (another valid reason to attempt to remain patient and professional).

It's only later, once they're battling an army and time is literally crunched, that he realizes that reprogramming every last one of Vision's synapses will take entirely too long, and Shuri probably hasn't made enough mistakes in her life to realize that if something isn't working it's time to move on to Plan B.

It's only later, once things have fallen apart, that he wishes Tony would have been part of the planning process. Vision had inherited the pragmatic side of the man (he'd offered to sacrifice himself, after all), but not the stubbornness. When Cap had said no, Vision caved. When Wakanda offered a potential solution, Vision (and the rest of them) had held out hope for a bit.

But Tony is ( _was? He hates to think 'was'…_ ) a calculator. He would've said 'yes' to Cap's 'no' and argued his point to the bitter end.

Now it doesn't matter, so Bruce doesn't dwell. Everything is over. He finds Shuri (she survived, thank goodness – she is only a _teenager_ , after all). She's a broken, hunched mess on a cracked and gritty floor. It's obvious she's already heard the news. Bruce quietly walks over and lowers himself down next to her. In this moment, it is abundantly clear that even though she is probably an overqualified genius in a number of fields, she is still a very young and emotionally compromised kid. Or, to put it in simpler terms, she's a wreck.

So is Bruce, but he's had practice with being a wreck. More than most.

He doesn't touch her; he just sits with her, offering a silent, semi-solid presence.

"He's dead, because of me," she mumbles through sobs.

Against all odds, he almost has to smile. She's so very much like _him_ that it hurts (but he's not here, so why dwell?).

"Nah," he says, staring blankly at the mess of downed trees and upturned earth visible through the empty window frames. "They're all gone because of Thanos, not because we didn't try hard enough. We did what we could. So did you."

She still doesn't look at him. "It wasn't enough."

"Nope. But you did your best."

 _Now_ she looks at him. Had he been Tony Stark, the words _might_ have been deep insult hurled out of deep loss, but he's not Tony. Shuri seems to understand that and slowly nods before visibly willing the sobs to stop. "Okay."

Bruce stands and she follows suit before silently leading him to Wakanda's overly impressive labs. Everything about Wakanda is seemingly light years ahead. But Bruce has no time to be impressed anymore. He begins to listen as Shuri begins to teach and together they begin to brainstorm ideas.

A _chat_ is no longer necessary.

* * *

 _"I could choke the life out of you without changing a shade." Bruce Banner_


End file.
